


Unaching Scars

by notmyyacht



Category: Coriolanus - Shakespeare, SHAKESPEARE William - Works
Genre: Blood Kink, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Lovers to Enemies, M/M, Martius is self-conscious about his scars, Non-Explicit Sex, Scars, Symbolism, which is marfidius in a nutshell lbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-12 18:00:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15345399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notmyyacht/pseuds/notmyyacht
Summary: Sex always seemed like the next inevitable and irrevocable act between Martius and Aufidius. While it exceeded anything Aufidius could have predicted, the events preceding it and following it were nothing if not unexpected.





	Unaching Scars

**Author's Note:**

> I know I'm late to the party, but I only finally watched the Donmar Warehouse production of Coriolanus and tbh I've become a lil bit obsessed with this ship lately. This is my first time writing for them so please be gentle. Hope y'all like it! =D

Sex always seemed like the next inevitable and irrevocable act between Martius and Aufidius.

The event itself was exactly what Aufidius had expected, and more. It was violent and rough. There was no singular position either took, but a mass of graceful and bruising moves that left blood stains in the sheets and markings on each other’s bodies.

While it exceeded anything Aufidius could have come up with in the past, -in those late sleepless nights he would fill with his fantasies with a hand around himself- the events preceding it and following it were nothing if not unexpected.

Aufidius had always thought it would happen during war. That one of them would finally decide to sneak into the other’s tent in the middle of the night and just let it happen. Then the following morning they would meet again on the battlefield and finally kill each other.

But no. Martius came to him, dressed in rags and banished from the city he had fought for so many times. How could Aufidius refuse him? It was poetic that they should come together like this, not just as allies, but as lovers. It was always destined to be like this.

Martius would not let Aufidius sleep with him in the light. Not in the daylight, not by firelight. Their fated acts would be conducted in the dark. Aufidius, albeit curious, never questioned it. And Martius let him do whatever he liked, just as long as Aufidius let him do whatever _he_ liked.

It wasn’t making love, it was a dance. A dance of touch, sweat, and heat. When the brightest lights danced behind Aufidius’ eyes in the darkness and Martius would moan his name, when it was over… still Martius refused to allow a mere candle.

Aufidius never said, but he had his suspicions. He touched them as they lay there in the dark. He would trace a finger over the gnarled flesh of Martius’ scars. He had so many, as did Aufidius. Many of which they had given to each other.

Martius never returned the caresses.

Martius was cold in the aftermath. He would allow Aufidius to curl his body around him, but he would never return the gesture. Aufidius didn’t care; he just laid his head upon that scarred chest and allowed sleep to claim him.

 _This is destiny_ , he would think.

It was also fated to end. Aufidius never thought otherwise, but mourned the fact it had not lasted long. The final act, Martius’ death, was just as exhilarating as any battle they fought, any passion they ever shared in bed.

As Martius hung there above his head, the blood dripping onto his face, Aufidius traced a finger along the final wound. A part of him wanted to dig his hand in, feel his enemy-lover from the inside to perhaps absorb him in some permanent capacity.

Martius was dead and Aufidius prayed to the gods that he could take on all those scars, the ones Martius would never let him see, but always let him touch. And while part of him reveled in his ultimate victory, he was certain he would miss Martius. If not for the thrill of their rivalry from a distance, then for the ecstasy their clashes wrought.

He had been ready to give it all up in favor of having Martius by his side. That, in itself, was just as thrilling as any battle they had fought, even if it was not meant to last long. Aufidius could not let them return to what they were. It was over and although this victory had been what he prized more than anything, it was grim knowledge that the rest of his life would never be as fulfilling.

Aufidius rose to his feet and placed one final kiss upon Martius’ bloody mouth; his fingers dipped into the gore, painting his skin red. If Aufidius could at the very least memorize the feel of that last wound under his touch, then perhaps Martius would never truly be gone. He took a step back and licked his lips.

“By this I swear, my Martius, I shall never forget the taste of thy blood.”


End file.
